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Servants Summon Arc: Masters' Tournament
Prologue: Introductions A beautiful teenage girl yawned. She threw off her covers and realized that she was nude. Oh crap, I forgot... Altea Flamel likes to sleep nude as it is easier for her to go. She quickly found her clothes and shoved them on. No sooner had she finished dressing when a knock on her door nearly shook of her hastily-put-on gown. Being the daughter of the strongest mage family in Italy was tiring. "Altea! What are you doing in bed still?!" a voice shouted. Altea cursed in Latin and replied in her native tongue, "I'm still getting dressed! Calm down, Father! I know how important today is!" The voice went silent as Altea continued to get dressed. Father can be SO annoying sometimes. But why is there a mage tournament today? Father also said that today I will be summoning my Servant... It just makes no sense. Altea got up and stared at herself in the mirror. She wore a dress that waterfalled down to her toes, no further. Her high heels were made of the finest silver and encrusted with rubies. Ugh, Father! I ''told you I hate jewelry!'' she thought. Her father expects her to become as ostentatious as possible; she is the heir of the strongest mage family in Italy. Of course, she wore makeup. Her eyelashes were done in a way that if she imbued mana into them, she could use them to fan someone, although Altea would never do such a thing as unsightly as that. She wore just the right amount of crimson lipstick to emphasize her beauty. Her nails were perfectly manicured, although this might prove redundant in today's tournament. She again looked at herself and nodded. Yup! As expected of Italy's most beautiful maiden! She got up the courage to open the door and walk outside. She walked out of the door, to find her father staring down at her. Even when aged, Giovanni Flamel still had the angry flare in his eyes from his younger days. He rubbed Altea's head. "There's my daughter. Now, go! Win the tournament! Prove to all of Italy that the Flamels are the strongest!" Altea smiled wide. "Yes, Father! I won't let you down!" Chapter 1: The Tournament Altea took off from her family mansion and ran towards Piazza San Marco (St. Mark's Square). When she entered, she went to the stand to sign up for the tournament. She wrote, Altea Flamel, Heir of the Flamel Family, Witch of Alchemical Demise. Her alias was well-known throughout Italy, as her skills with magic are quite unrivalled. Her family has a secret art, passed down through the generations, known as Flamel Style: Infinite Blade Creation. Altea's father was quite an adept user at it and expects his daughter to be adept with the technique, too. She had exceeded her father's hopes. As soon as she learned it and managed to get the projections right, she could summon thirty swords at once. They appear out of the air from crimson light and fire away as if they have their own will, in which they technically do. Altea then moved to the special booth in which mage families sit to watch the tournament. Her father was already there, in his pin-striped dress clothes. Altea's mother wasn't present as she had died giving birth to her. Altea sat in her seat and began to glower at the other mages. She just wanted to feel "on top" although her skills proved to be on top. An announcer went on and declared that the first match of the tournament was to start between Marco Bautista and Venusto D'Aleo. The two were both from quite famous mage families, although quite outshined by the Flamel Family. Hmm... Altea thought, From what I can glean, the Bautista Family specializes in the usage of crystals while the D'Aleo Family specializes in projection magic. If I had to say who will win this one my guess will go to Venusto. Altea was taken aback when Marco formed a primitive projection and clashed with Venusto's. Whoa! So some basic training in projection magic, eh? Venusto will still win though. I can tell that he has mastered the "Trace-on" command. No sooner had she thought this, Venusto had Marco pinned in a prison of longsword projections. The announcer shouted, "The winner is.... VENUSTO D'ALEO! What excellent magic we have seen here, folks! Let us raise a hand for the loser, Marco Bautista! You cannot deny that he has fought well with the duel lasting five minutes! D'Aleo passes to the next round!" "Today's Round Two is a match between two powerful mage families! One controls Northern Italy while the other controls Southern Italy! Let me introduce... the Witch of Alchemical Demise and heir to the Flamel Family, Altea Flamel!" Roars of applause broke out as Altea walked to the field of battle. Of course, her father refused to allow her to change out of her gown and heels. He had ordered her to not get a scratch on the heels. Stupid Father! As if I can even ''fight properly wearing these! No use complaining. I'll just give him a piece of my mind later.'' "Altea's opponent is the Sorceress of the Underworld and respective heir of the Morte Family, Flaminia Morte!" The same roars of applause rang out. The two girls stood their ground and stared daggers at each other. Flaminia shouted, "Hey, Altea. You don't seem to be any stronger!" Altea scoffed, "I could shoot that back at you, Flaminia! I see you still like to wear orange." "It's my family's color!" she retorted. "As if," Altea yelled, "My family colors are red. Red is better than orange!" Ironically, Flaminia burned red. "You will pay for that insult, Altea!" Altea made a come-on gesture and said, "Come at me, girl! See if you can come through with those words of yours!" The announcer beautifully dictated the emotions of the audience and at that moment, the audience was at max excitement. "And there they go! The two most well-known rivals in Italy are now duking it out!" Altea and Flaminia felt a twinge of guilt since they were technically deceiving the whole of Italy and the world. Exactly eight years ago, the Italian government crumbled because of a duel between Giovanni and Marco. However, this isn't the truth. Far from it. The truth was that Giovanni and Marco formed a secret pact kept obscure from even their own families. Everyone on the Italian government was massacred. To hide their heinous deed, Giovanni and Marco mortally wounded each other to make it look like they fought to the death and nearly did kill one another. Italy was then split in two with half of the population siding with the Mortes while the other half sided with the Flamels. The two fathers divulged the truth to their respective daughters. Since that day, the two have kept a demeanor that they were bitter rivals but on the inside, they were the best of friends. Chapter 2: Dual-wielding Demons Clash The two met in the center and crossed opposite hands. Pushing off of each other, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Flaminia threw a right hook to which Altea blocked with her left hand and countered with a kick to the abdomen. Flaminia sidestepped and clamped Altea's leg between her knee and elbow. Altea then leapt off her foot and twisted around, bringing her leg up then down onto Flaminia's forehead. She had no choice but to unclamp Altea and stumble backwards. Altea projected a dagger and lunged at Flaminia but this time, she was ready. Flaminia projected a rapier, and taking advantage of the reach, stepped inside Altea's strike and stabbed at Altea's chest. In the nick of time, Altea had reinforced her own front as to not injure herself. Altea announced to the crowd, "You've gotten better, Flaminia, but not enough to best me!" Flaminia whipped at her hair and let it flap in the wind. "Well, then. Let's see who's better at projections!" Flaminia projected a one-handed sword approximately 60 centimeters in length in her left hand and swung at Altea. Altea countered with a sword slightly shorter at 58 centimeters. Expecting this, Flaminia silently thanked God that she was ambidextrous and projected another sword, slightly longer than her first at 67 centimeters. She slashed from the top to which Altea met with another sword. The two girls were at an equal standoff until the broke and held two swords each. Altea's were red and black while Flaminia's were orange and violet. "At least you can make beautiful swords!" Altea said, wagging her finger. Flaminia laughed, "Well, I could send that right back atcha!" The two charged at each other, their swords poised to slash. The crowd had already climaxed its excitement levels but somehow, the excitement grew larger when the two girls pulled out their projection trump cards: dual-wielding. Some of the crowd had their mouths open. Ever since that anime known worldwide as SAO, short for Sword Art Online, hit the screens, most people began to appreciate swords more, although this only applied to mage families who had an innate preference to Projection Magecraft. As soon as this mage tournament started, people were expecting old-fashioned clashes and they weren't unsatisfied. The reason why the crowd blew its lid is because that the two girls were able to hold two swords in each hand. Most people thought that dual-wielding was unpractical as one needs to be equally coordinated with both hands in order to properly wield two swords. This was no problem for the two girls, who had always been ambidextrous. The two girls crossed swords in front of them and charged at each other. The announcer was open-mouthed and couldn't possibly keep up with the speed they were attacking each other at. The only references were the slight wounds the two girls were giving each other. They weren't giving each other any leeway. One, two, three, four. The wounds kept piling up. Eight minutes of four clashing swords later, the two girls stumbled away from each other. Altea clutched her right arm because a wound had rendered it partially immobile. Flaminia was on her left knee, grasping her right leg as Altea had scored a hit and brought her down. "Darn it, Altea..." Flaminia groaned, as blood slowly oozed through the many wounds covering her body, "Do I seriously need to use that?" Altea smirked then winced. "Hehe... It looks like we forced each other to use our trump cards..." That said, I can't ''believe I was actually able to fight wearing high heels! I'm surprised I didn't lose my balance!'' She then looked down and saw that she had unconsciously flowed mana into the Magic Circuits in her legs to allow for an even footing. Unconsciously? She finally noticed that her heels weren't their usual red color. Imbued with mana, they glowed green. There wasn't a scratch on the gems on them. Stupid Father. I've kept my promise. My dress is in tatters though... Through a sheet of pain, Flaminia stood up and placed her right hand on her heart while holding out her left hand. She began to chant in Latin: "Many of the dead lie here. You have served your masters and have passed on. Now, I order you to serve me. Rise, soldiers of Rome!" A sickly green magic circle, about twenty feet in diameter, appeared. Great... Altea thought, Not Roman zombies... Altea also painfully placed her hands in the opposite way of Flaminia and began to chant in Greek: "Weapons of Rome, you have been forged for one purpose: to protect the people. I ask thee for thine help in my protection. Use my body as a catalyst. Forged for one purpose: the Unlimited Blade Works!" Around Altea, red blazen light began to glow. Imagine a sphere with a radius of twenty feet that splits Altea into two from ear to ear. The hemisphere behind her sprouts red circles all throughout the space that it occupies. The announcer finally found his voice. "There it is, there it is! The hidden arts of their respective families! Flamels' hidden art, everyone knows of as that infamous Giovanni Flamel used it during his duel with Marco Morte: the Unlimited Blade Works!" Giovanni was sitting near the announcer and whispered in his ear. "Well, I am sorry but the art is called Flamel Style: Infinite Blade Creation! Let us see this in action shall we?" Chapter 3: The Tournament's End The green circle began to glow as the announcer shouted, "Could it be? Could it be? Yes, it is! The hidden art of the Morte Family: Unlimited Undead Works." Again, Giovanni couldn't help himself in correcting the announcer. "Well, excuse me. It seems that the official name is Morte Style: Perpetual Soul Grounding. Let us see how it works." A fog of black issued out of the magic circle and thickened to form soldiers. Some wore tunics and carried swords. Others wore armor and brandished spears and shields. Someone who wore what obviously was a general's armor spoke. What came out was a series of chatters. Flaminia fell to both her knees and winced as she put weight on her bad leg. *pant pant* If I continue supplying mana, I'll be able to keep the technique going... That has to be Altea's trump card... Weapon points began emerging from the center of the red circles. Altea staggered on her feet and nearly did the splits trying to regain her balance. Dang... We haven't went ''this far in a duel before... She managed to force me to use this...'' The two girls ran to the side as their respective spells clashed with each other. Both were getting weaker by the minute as they drain their mana to their spells. The two then engaged in a gruesome fistfight. Well, we need to convince the crowd. Altea had spoken telepathically. With the amount of mana the two girls are outputting, a delicate link formed between their mana. Their thoughts flow through as well. Flaminia replied, We go down together. I haven't had this much fun in a long time, bestie. Yeah, Altea sighed, Me too. The two released their techniques at the same time and focused their remaining mana into their hand for a Mana Burst that allows for inhuman strength. They hit each other in the stomach and collapsed. "What's this?" the announcer rubbed his eyes. "A tie? It seems to be a tie! Both girls are unconscious! Round Two is a tie!" Giovanni and Marco leapt from the bleachers and landed on the arena, sixty feet below, with no problem. They had both unleashed mana from their feet and that acted as a cushion. They both ran to their daughters, making a wide angle around the two clashing spells. Even though their mana supply had been cut off, the spell was on a time lag: three minutes. It will keep going until that time had passed then it will fade. Just to keep the ploy up, when the two carried off their daughters, they gave each other a dirty look that would've been close to Medusa's stare. The tournament continued as planned. ---- Altea awoke in the hospital. She tried to sit up but was stopped by a nurse. "Don't do it. As expected of a Flamel. Very high healing capabilities. Your wounds were ejecting blood up until two minutes ago. You were brought in here ten minutes ago." When the nurse left, her father entered. "Altea..." he said. Uh-oh, scolding time. she thought. Her father extended his hand and rubbed Altea's head. She loved it when he did that. "You've done well, daughter," he cooed, "I couldn't have done better." Altea blushed, "You flatter me, Father." She then put on her serious demeanor. "What of the tournament?" Giovanni smiled, "Still going. The quarterfinal match is being held. You and Flaminia are both semifinalists. The semifinal will be like normal. Of course, I expect you two to face again in the finals." Altea smirked, "No worries, Father. I always snatch victory." The crowd excitedly began to cheer when Altea walked back onto the arena. The announcer declared, "The first semifinal will now begin! We have our Witch, Altea, pitting against Venusto! I am predicting that this match will be quick!" Altea curtsied to Venusto and said, "Well, be glad, peasant. You are fighting against me." Venusto placed his right hand over his chest and knelt on one knee. "I am in no place to say this but it is an honor to fight you, Princess." Altea's heart skipped a beat as her face slightly reddened, "Fl-flattery will get you nowhere! Now, I'm nice so I'll let you have the first move." Venusto straightened, "Thank you, Your Highness." He projected a bow and began nocking arrows. A mere two seconds later, Venusto had four arrows on his bow and fired. An invisible cloak of mana, Altea thought, There's my shield. She stood still, assessing her own mana levels. I may need a few hours more sleep tonight to properly restabilize my mana levels... The four arrows neared Altea and hit her cloak of mana. It broke in half as soon as it hit. Altea sighed and flowed mana into the Magic Circuits of her legs. She charged forward and reached Venusto, keeping him at dagger point. She whispered in her ear, "I wish you could've kept me entertained for a while longer but here's a reward for you for being brave enough to face me." She kissed his ear and walked away. "Oh my lord! That was insanely quick!" the announcer shouted, "The first semifinal is over! Well, what a surprise. Our Witch didn't even break a sweat! Now, let us move on to the second semifinal! Who shall face Altea? Will it be her rival, Flaminia or the dark horse of this tournament, Zeno De Gracia? Even I cannot predict who might win this one!" Altea strolled back into her booth and she sat next to her father. Immediately, her eyes fluttered. She only saw the boy that had to be Zeno stick his hands into his jacket pockets. She laid on her father's shoulder to which Giovanni chuckled. He stroked her hair and whispered, "You've done well, my daughter." Altea was gently shaken awake. Giovanni said, "It is time." Altea nodded and roused herself fully. She walked back down to the arena to face her opponent. She half-expected it to be Zeno but a familiar face stared at her. The two girls locked eyes and a silent conversation began. Ugh, not again... Altea groaned, We've both practically depleted each other's mana levels... I have to agree with you there, Altea, Flaminia replied, I think we can tie this tournament. How? We incapacitate each other, Flaminia suggested. Hmm... That could be done. Let's just do another dual-wielding showdown then impale each other, Altea mused. The question is: where do we impale each other? It will ''obviously be somewhere nonvital.'' Flaminia said. Altea giggled, I'll aim for you liver. That's vital, dummy! I know, I know. I kid. Altea rubbed the back of her neck and said aloud, "Ugh, again? I'm tired of this." Flaminia replied, "Yeah, let's settle this. I wanna head home and sleep already." The two then each projected two legendary swords from both history and mythology. Altea brandished Cruaidín Catutchenn, the sword of Cú Chulainn, and Excalibur, the strongest holy sword wielded by King Artoria. Flaminia wielded Durandal, the sharpest sword in existence belonging to Roland, and Kusanagi, one of the Three Imperial Regalia of Japan. The two immediately began to falter as the mana output of projecting two legendary swords was quite taxing. Urk, that was a bad idea... Flaminia groaned. No kidding, Altea replied, Let's just do this. Yeah. The two girls charged at each other, bringing their swords up. The announcer voiced the audience's shock and excitement superfluously: "Oh my! Swords from mythology! Swords from history! Imagine the mana output just to project them! As expected of the heirs of the two strongest mage families in Italy!" The two hacked and slashed at each other, not giving room. No wounds were given this time though since the two girls had decided of focusing it all into one blow. Tiring out, Altea said, Ready? Flaminia replied, Ready when you are. Together, the two began counting down while still slashing at each other: Three, two, one, NOW! Altea and Flaminia dispelled Catutchenn and Kusanagi respectively and focused the last of their mana into the other sword. The two impaled each other in the transverse colon. Seconds later, the two girls developed a face that could only mean one thing: blood was to be ejected from the mouth. However, neither refused to spit it out until Flaminia coughed, quickly followed suit by Altea. The two fell to their knees as their swords flickered and faded away. The two girls found enough mana to throw one last devastating punch at each other, knocking each other out. The crowd and announcer collectively gasped. The announcer collected his wits first and declared, "It's a tie! This tournament is a tie! We can say with confidence that this tournament is a tie!" Both Giovanni and Marco hopped back onto the arena and chuckled under their breath as they carried off their respective daughters. Chapter 4: The Servants Summon A mere half hour later, the announcer ushered the crowd back into their seats, saying, "Well, since this tournament is a tie, the two finalists have a chance of summoning a Servant and participating in the Holy Grail War!" Altea and Flaminia, both hastily bandaged, marched back onto the arena. A summoning circle was already prepared. Giovanni asked, "Altea, are you sure you've recovered enough mana to perform the summon?" "No worries, Father," Altea reassured him, "I do." Flaminia then announced to the crowd, "I will not partake in the rewards of this tournament! Although it is tempting to fight in the Holy Grail War, I must admit that Altea has beaten me. She alone will fight for Italy." Flaminia finished and stole a wink in Altea's direction. The announcer voiced his own and the crowd's disbelief: "One surprise after another! Let us begin the summon! We have a special relic today provided by the Mages Association: a chalice that allegedly belongs to the great witch Circe! Let us see if our Witch is enough to call upon her!" Let gold and bronze be the catalyst. Let this chalice be the foundation. Let the leader Nicholas Flamel be the ancestor. Let red be the color I pay tribute to. Let rise a wall in which the wind shall fell. Let the four cardinal gates open. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the kingdom rotate. I hereby declare; Your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer! If you would submit to this will and this truth. An oath I will swear here; I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven; I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell. From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restriction, Student of Cthonia! The summon circle glowed with brilliant red light as the chalice glared brighter and brighter. Altea did not falter as she continued through the incantation. Upon the last word, the light solidified into a woman, not much older than Altea. She held the chalice and curtsied to Altea, imploring, "The Holy Grail has enticed me and I have answered its call. Oh, mage, answer me. Are you my Master?" Altea eyed her left hand as the command seals appeared on it. An elaborate cross. She declared to the Heroic Spirit, "I am. State your True Name, Servant." She spoke, "I am Circe, owner of this chalice, Caster-class Servant. It is an honor to be your Servant, Master." The announcer declared, "Why, this must be fate! We have returned the chalice to its owner! Our Witch is worthy of the greatest witch in history!" Circe corrected him, "You are forgetting my sister disciple, Medea." The announcer stumbled over his words, "Ye-yes, we cannot forget Medea. Let us wish Altea, Master of Circe, luck!"